


Moonlight

by realityfallsapart



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Diners, Fluff, M/M, Minor Angst, but they meet in a diner, it's cute, mentions of original characters - Freeform, slight AU, they dont know each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 04:53:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13780125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realityfallsapart/pseuds/realityfallsapart
Summary: Dan dragged the straw through his water, watching as the liquid swirled and the ice clinked against the glass. The straw had made countless laps at this point, and Dan wasn't even paying attention to the action anymore. He had spaced out, his gaze vaguely directed at the empty seat in front of him.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Dan Howell is waiting for his date with his long-time crush to begin. His night turns sour, however, but a stranger with eyes clearer than the sky just so happens to make it his goal to fix things. By the end of the night, Dan starts to believe that maybe thingsdohappen for a reason.





	Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> This is my third work for the 2018 Phandom Secret Valentine, and my third valentine is @orchestralester
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!!

Dan dragged the straw through his water, watching as the liquid swirled and the ice clinked against the glass. The straw had made countless laps at this point, and Dan wasn't even paying attention to the action anymore. He had spaced out, his gaze vaguely directed at the empty seat in front of him.

"Hun, are you gonna order yet?"

Dan jumped at the soft voice, the waitress' question tearing him out of his thoughts. He turned, blinking rapidly, orienting himself once more with the world around him.

"Oh uh, no, five more minutes, please."

The corner of the waitress' lips turned down and even though Dan wasn't looking at her in the eyes, he knew that if he did he would see sadness and pity. He could feel her gaze turn from his face to the vacant side of the booth, and back to him.

"Okay, babe. Call me over when you're ready," she said, gently, as if she was talking to a scared and beaten down animal, before walking away.

Dan sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands. He didn't blame her. Dan had been waiting in this booth for the past half an hour, and with each minute ticking by, the prospect of his night turning out as okay as he had planned kept getting bleaker and bleaker.

Chase Thompson, Dan's crush of over three years, had asked him out all of two days ago at the end of biology class. It was the only class they had ever shared in their entire academic careers, and Dan was sure that before this year, Chase hadn't even known he had existed, but he had been resigned to that for a while. So, of course, when they were paired together as lab partners for the year, Dan had done his best to _not_ jump for joy. They had become sort-of-friends, close enough to text an obscure meme to at three in the morning and think nothing of it but still lacking all of the personal details that true friends knew about each other. Dan had made it a goal to try and get Chase to fall for him without it being too obvious, so when Chase had asked him this past Wednesday if he'd "like to go out to the corner diner in town" Dan had very nearly combusted. And when he had asked why, just to keep his hopes from jumping up _too high,_ and Chase had replied with, "for a date, obviously. You're cute, Daniel Howell" Dan quite literally could not stop the wide smile from taking over his face.

He had been on cloud nine for the rest of the day and the day after that, his happiness not the least bit diminished today either. Dan wasn't sure that he had ever smiled so much in such a short time.

Now though, Dan was still waiting for his prince to show up. He had checked that he was in the right diner three times, and had gone through their texts to make sure that he had the right time too, at least twice. Right spot, right time. Hell, Dan was even in the best booth, tucked away in the corner to give them a little privacy, but also within eyesight of the front door, so it wasn't like Chase had missed him.

Dan contemplated sending a text. Was Chase okay? Stuck trying to get here? He was at school today, that was for sure, they had seen each other across the hall (he had disappeared by the time Dan had reached where he had been standing, but that wasn't the point). Dan still wasn't sure about the text, however. He didn't want to seem clingy or anything—they hadn't even had a first date yet!

He fidgeted in the seat, his fingers playing with the case on his phone. Dan looked out the window. It had started raining, droplets of water _pitter patter-_ ing against the glass pane. Dan stared at the puddles forming, his finger aimlessly drawing unseen patterns in the condensation of his glass of water. He let his shoulders drop. Chase would be here.

He would.

 

* * *

 

Dan's head was in his hands. He wasn't hungry anymore, wasn't even in the mood to do anything but find his way into his bed and hide under his duvet forever.

It had been an hour since Chase had vowed to show up.

Dan had sent three texts, all of them unanswered. The waitress had given him a slice of pie "on the house" and told him that there were plenty other fish in the sea. It was kind of her, definitely, but Dan had lost his appetite.

He'd been stood up, his hope's of landing the guy crushed, and heart heavy in his rib cage.

Dan was also aware of the occasional pitying stare of a fellow customer, a _"oh that poor boy"_ thrown in his direction in a weak tone.

The entire time of his wait, Dan fell lower and lower, his self-esteem crumbling with every "five more minutes, please" he directed at his waitress and every thought of _he'll be here, he promised,_ that bounced around in his head. Dan felt sick. He wanted to go home and forget everything, forget his stupid feelings and forget that Chase even existed.

_Like Chase had probably done about Dan._

Dan winced as that particular thought grew in intensity. It hurt, a lot, but it was probably true. Three years of pining after someone who doesn't even know your name will do that.

He slipped his phone in his pocket and gave another wistful glance at his untouched pie. It looked delicious and Dan hated to waste it, but his stomach was churning and in knots that would put Harry Houdini to shame; he didn't want to eat.

The little bell above the door chimed, and Dan's nearly-beaten-to-death hopes fluttered, but he didn't look up from the table. Those same hopes crashed to the ground, however, when the footsteps approached the counter, seeming to go for one of the barstools. Dan heard their voice talking with the waitress, felt the stranger's gaze on him.

Dan swallowed, trying to work past the lump in his throat but failing spectacularly. _That's it,_ he decided, _I'm leaving_. Dan braced one hand on the table and started to stand, his eyes still downcast when he felt a hand on his shoulder, one that pushed him down (not that Dan was really fighting against it, he was all out of fight at the moment) and back into his side of the booth. Dan looked up in surprise, only to meet the gaze of a stranger sitting himself down in the seat across from Dan.

He looked a little older than Dan himself with crystal-like blue eyes and high cheekbones framed with black hair that was too dark to be anything but artificial. He was pretty. Very.

"Sorry, babe, traffic was hell," he stated simply, as if they had known each other for years. As if  _he_ was the one that Dan had been waiting for. The man picked up the menu that had previously had no attendee and flicked his eyes down once over it before once again turning that intense gaze in Dan's direction, a smile playing at his lips.

Dan recovered his ability of speech and masked his surprise and confusion as best as possible.

"You have the wrong person, look, it's fine I don't care I was leaving anyway-" Dan breathed, once again making a move to get up, but the man wrapped his fingers around Dan's wrist, loose enough for their hold to be easily broken if Dan wished. Dan stilled at the cool touch. He didn't know why, but he did.

"Are you sure?"

It was a simple question, really, and if Dan was any sane person, he would say yes and leave, because he swore that someone somewhere had been kidnapped like this, but then again, Dan figured that nothing else could possibly go wrong tonight, and if he was kidnapped, then he was kidnapped. Besides, maybe if he stayed here a little longer the rain would stop and he could walk home without becoming completely drenched.

So Dan sat, his brows furrowing.

"Why are you sitting here? And who are you?" Dan asked. He hated how lost his voice sounded but he couldn't help it. He just wanted to rewind the whole night.

"When I came in, you looked really sad, so I asked the waitress if you were okay, and she said that you had been stood up and had been waiting for a really long time. I didn't want you to sit here all by yourself, nor did I really want your whole night to be ruined." He reached forward and squeezed Dan's hand, a show of support. "As for who I am, my name's Phil Lester, aspiring film director and lover of animals."

Dan snorted, imaging Phil as one of those people who came in and cooed over every single one of the animals that were in the pet store that Dan worked at. The mental image fit surprisingly well.

"Film director, huh? And animal lover? That's an interesting combination." Dan said, shaking his head. He was smiling though, so Dan would give Phil that—he'd made Dan smile pretty easily.

"Excuse you, it's the best combination."

"Is that so?"

"Uh, yeah, it is, because that makes me qualified to give both advice on how to properly edit footage _and_ which dogs are the best dogs for petting and snuggles."

Dan feigned to look appalled, hand on his chest and everything.

" _Excuse you,_ but _all_ dogs are good dogs for petting and snuggles. If you're going to disrespect dogs like that then sorry mate, but this date is over."

The word "date" slipped out before Dan had even realized it, but he bit his tongue and tried to ignore the feeling of a blush starting to form. Phil reaching out and once again wrapping his long fingers around Dan's wrist as if he was afraid that Dan would actually leave, also wasn't helping.

"You didn't let me finish! I was going to say: 'but that's a trick question because they're _all_ good'" Phil whined, pouting.

Dan rolled his eyes, pretending to be disbelieving. He hoped Phil got the message.

"Fine. I'll accept it. But you're on thin ice, mister."

Phil smiled, and Dan decided that he looked even prettier when he smiled.

They picked up their menus, both deciding without a word that they would try and keep it cool, look like they were planning on staying, and hope that the other wasn't going to go anywhere any time soon.

Dan's stomach grumbled and he suddenly became very aware that he hadn't eaten dinner yet.

The waitress came over, this time a wide smile on her face, little crinkles at the corners of her eyes.

"What would you two like to eat?" she asked. Her voice was sunny and she sounded ridiculously pleased with herself.

They both ordered, Dan biting his lip as he paid attention to how smooth Phil's voice sounded, trying to not be so obvious about it. He hoped that it worked.

"So," Phil said, his voice pulling Dan from his thoughts and from the direction that the waitress had just walked away, "I already gave you my name, but what about you?"

Mentally, Dan cursed himself, at least a little—he hadn't even given Phil his name! Outwardly, however, Dan blushed, stuttering a little in embarrassment.

"Oh god, I'm sorry. My name's Dan, er, Dan Howell. Yeah." he finished, lamely. Dan inwardly cringed into next fucking week—god, he was so _socially inept he can't even introduce himself._

Phil seemed to not notice. Or at least, he didn't bother pointing it out. Instead, he smirked.

"Dan, huh? It suits you. So, _Dan,_ " Phil started, that adorably sexy smirk still on his face. Phil flicked a piece of hair away from his eyes, pushing it back up into the rest of his fringe. "tell me something about yourself. It can be anything: favorite book, what color socks you're wearing, the meaning of life...it doesn't matter. As long as it's about you."

Dan groaned, leaning back.

"Don't you dare get me started on the meaning of life there, Lester, I have too many existential crises as it is, I don't need your help nor do I need one right now."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really. So uh, no getting stuck in my thoughts tonight, thanks." Dan said, throwing his hands up as if in disgust. Phil giggled and Dan's eyes were immediately drawn to the fact that his tongue poked out.

"Alright, alright, no crises allowed then."

Dan snorted, picking up his glass and taking a sip. He didn't fail to notice how Phil's blue, blue eyes stayed on him the entire time.

 

* * *

 

When they eventually stumbled out of the diner, almost two hours had passed since Phil had first sat down across from Dan. They had eaten Dan's pie while they were waiting for their meals, and _then_ had even gotten a sundae to split as well, just so they could keep sitting there in their own little bubble, tucked away from the rest of the world.

Chase had never showed.

Dan didn't care.

Phil had insisted on paying for the meal, wouldn't even let Dan pay for the tip no matter how much the brunet protested.

"My date, my check," Phil had said. (Dan had tried very hard to not blush at that, ending up failing. Oops).

The rain had stopped, the downpour down to nothing but a few droplets here or there. Dan hardly noticed.

They kept talking—mainly Dan waffling about Star Wars and Phil nodding along—and Phil didn't mention anything about leaving. Dan didn't mind.

About a dozen steps away from the diner, however, Dan felt a hand slot itself in his own. The fingers were smooth and surprisingly warm. Dan looked down at where his hand met Phil's.

"Is this okay?" Phil whispered, as if noises too loud would disrupt the moment. Dan laced their fingers, marveling at their fit.

"Yeah, it is."

And later, when they parted, new numbers in their phones and giddiness in their chests, Dan certainly didn't mind at all when Phil tugged Dan close by their linked hands, his free hand cupping Dan's jaw and kissing him softly under the moonlight.

Dan's lips still tingled long after Phil had left them.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos, and feedback are all appreciated! Thank you so much for reading! :D


End file.
